


We're Alright

by igottoomuchwriting



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Domestic Fluff, Fighting, Fluff, M/M, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 23:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/igottoomuchwriting/pseuds/igottoomuchwriting
Summary: Race never thought that his feelings would cause Spot to leave.





	We're Alright

**Author's Note:**

> Look, sometimes I like fandom cliches, so Spot and Jack are adopted brothers by Medda Larkin. Also, I tried distinguishing their accents? It's hard.  
> Spot's panicking is more anger than the typical panicking people think of. He yells, paces, won't let people touch him, etc. I just think it would fit him more cause that's his version of the fight, flight, or submit. He fights instead of fleeing or submitting.

The scene was domestic, more so than Race could fathom Spot being. 

It was about ten when Race had come home to Spot cleaning. 

It was ten-thirty when Race joined him, sweeping and singing whatever came up. 

It was eleven when they met in the middle of the living room, tired hands soft to the touch. Spot had placed his head on Race’s shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist possessively. Race placed his head on Spot’s head, hands gently gripping his waist. They danced to Ed Sheeran, Sleeping with Sirens, whatever their combined playlist would turn on. Whispers of the outside world softly carried into the room, through their heads, but locked out of their hearts. Race embraces the whispers, listened to the ones in his head. 

He spoke, gentle. Words that they have never spoke for as long as they have known each other. 

“I love you.”

It should have let the night end how it was now- soft, gentle, quiet. 

Race never would have guessed it would have set off a bomb.

Spot stopped and pushed Race away by his shoulders. Race stumbled back with a shocked look.

“What the hell, Spot?” 

“Don’t say that!” Spot snapped. Race started at him with a look of hurt and anger.

“An’ why the hell not?”

“‘Cause ya fuckin’ don’t!”

“What’re ya going off ‘bout, Spot? I wouldn’t’ve never said it if I didn’!” Spot shook his head, balling his fists up.

“Just stop talkin’, Race, for once in yer goddamn life,” he growled, accent coming out thicker and thicker. 

“Why are ya so against this?!” Race yelled, just short of screaming.

“‘Cause I know ya don’t!” Spot yelled back.

They stared at each other in anger, both heavily breathing. The music was still playing in the background, but the soft song had no place in that room. Race had no idea how long it had been before Spot turned and stormed out.

Race made no move to stop him, just angrily glared at the front door of their apartment. 

This is not how he thought this night would go.

 

Race’s phone rang at one in the morning. When Spot left, Race had started pacing. He flipped over the coffee table and threw a pillow at a wall. He was never violent, but he had to let out some energy before spending an hour listening to the playlist that he and Spot made together.

It hurt, it really did, but he didn’t want to turn it off; it felt like the music stopping would be an end to everything they built together. 

It took a few seconds for Race to pick up the phone. He held it out of the last second before reaching over to the other side of the couch and answering.

“What?” he snapped in a scratchy voice. 

“ _ Anthony Higgins _ ,” he heard Jack growl on the other side. “ _ Why the fuck is Spot Conlon, your  _ boyfriend,  _ sittin’ on my couch and glarin’ at anything that moves?” _

Rich breathed a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face.

“We’se got in a fight.”

“ _ I got that,”  _ he retorted. “ _ I wanna know ‘bout what?” _

“I’se just… I told ‘im I love him, an’ he yelled at me, so I yelled back.” He heard jack sigh and could just picture how mad he must have been when his brother showed up on his doorstep, angry and heartbroken. 

“ _ Davey’s talkin’ to ‘im right now, tryin’ to get his-” _ he stopped short. Race heard a faint voice call Jack’s name. “ _ Hang on, Racer,”  _ he mumbled.

It was a few moments of Race listening to voices in the background, sometimes hearing “Spot”, “Race”, and “panic”.

“ _ Alright.”  _ Jack spoke into the phone, snapping Race out of his daze. “ _ Here’s what’s gon’ happen. I’m gon’ ta hand the phone to Spot, and you two are gonna talk it out.”  _  Race snapped forward in his chair, panicked.

“What? No!” 

“ _ Yes,”  _ Jack growled back.

“Jack, I ain’t gon’ do that. He-”

“ _ Is just as hurt as you are, Race,”  _ he heard Davey say. Race shook his head, even though they couldn’t see it. 

“ _ It’s okay, Racer,”  _ Davey continued softly. “ _ Spot has calmed down and is ready to talk, and he wants to explain his reaction.”  _ Race pursed his lips before letting out a sigh.

“Put ‘im on,” he whispered. 

He heard some shuffling and muffled voices. Before he could change his mind and hang up, his boyfriend’s voice came through the speaker.

“ _ Hey.”  _ Race frowned at the tired and pained voice he hear, suddenly more worried than nervous. 

“Hey,” Race whispered back. It was a few moments before Spot spoke.

“ _ I’m sorry.”  _ Race opened to say his usual reply,  _ it’s okay,  _ when he stopped himself.

They needed to talk this out.

“Why did’ya keep on sayin’ I didn’ love ya? A simple ‘I’m not ready’ woulda done it,” he lazily joked, forcing a chuckle. He heard Spot take a sharp inhale of breath. 

“ _ I, uh… panicked.” _

“Why?” Race pushed. 

“ _ Cause no one’s eveh’ said they love me.”  _

“Ya shoulda said that it scared ya, Spottie. I woulda understood.”

_ “Nobody fuckin’  _ panics  _ when their boyfriend says they love ‘em. I ain’t about to admit that I’m terrified o’ three words.”  _ Race took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions under check. He was glad that Spot was trying to speak his mind, but it always upset him when he started talking bad about himself.  __

When they had started dating, they kept the playful hitting and shoving in their relationship. About a month in, Spot had convinced himself that he was abusive because of it, and it took two months for Race to convince him that Race wasn’t actually being hurt, that he would playfully hit Spot as well. 

“Spottie, a lotta people is scared of love. It’s a scary thing ta give ya whole heart to one single person.” Spot said nothing. There was a tense silence.

“ _ Do I have’ta say it?”  _ Spot finally whispered. 

“No, of course not. I won’t say it again, I don’ wan-”

“ _ No, fucking hell, I mean…” he paused. “Do I have ta verbally say it? Or is there…”  _ Race answered his unasked question. 

“I’se sure we can find a nonverbal way ta say it, if it makes ya uncomfortable.” Even though he couldn’t see him, Race just knew that Spot was smiling. 

“ _ Alright.”  _ he whispered. 

“Now hows ‘bout you come home? I think we’ve had a long night.”

“ _ Please for the love of God, go home!”  _ Race heard Jack yell in the background. Before he would ask how he heard Race, Spot was already cussing him out and threatening to ruin all his paint. 

Race listened to the brothers bicker through the phone, chuckling to himself as Davey tried to quiet them down as “it’s two in the morning, Jack!”

They were gonna be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based off of Cawchan's "Diary of Jane" video. Like, one frame. Sue me.  
> Also, I know I said Spot doesn't flee, but he isn't gonna hit or hurt Race in anyway, and he knows that's what he wants to do, so before he starts full on panicking, he leaves.   
> It's smart in his head, even though you should not leave during fights like this. Jack knows and he makes them talk it out because Spot has never been happier without Race.  
> Y'all don't care, but if you do, here ya go.


End file.
